


under observation

by hyuckyang



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - FBI, Crushes, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is Whipped, based on the fbi agent is watching me meme i'm sorry for bringing back dead memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-28 21:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20070979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuckyang/pseuds/hyuckyang
Summary: Mark's ultimate dream is to be an FBI agent, and in order to do so, he must go through the surveillance trial as a computer screen agent. To his horrible luck, he gets assigned probably the most boring adolescent he has ever seen. But, after breaking the main rule of the job, he starts to believe that it's maybe not so bad.





	under observation

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to dead meme city

Crime is inevitable. In a world where a handful of people own enough riches to feed three separate planets while the rest of the population has to struggle day in and day out to survive the day — crime seems like the only outlet for many human beings. For some, the only way to get food on the table is to turn to unethical solutions that would do them more harm than good if they were to ever get caught. That hardly matters, not when your survival stood on the line. 

It's a tough, cruel world out there and one might wonder just how the government has decided to handle the increasing crime rates. Well, to present it as simply as possible — surveillance through computer screens. Because hell, it's far more work to actually start providing citizens employment or improving the welfare than to hire an endless row of bored college students and freshly graduated agents to monitor suspicious acts on the interwebs. 

The job description is fairly simple. As a computer screen FBI agent, one is ordered to surveillance hints of criminal activity that land inside the FBI's radar by keeping track every single movement the citizen in question takes. Every single text message they type, every google search they search and every Youtube video is all observed through said connection for twenty-four hours each day. The agent has to simply take note of every single course of action in hopes of catching enough evidence to convict another lowly criminal. 

Controversially, the population is aware of the existence of the mission. Where most people are fully against it, the majority have long ago given up on demonstrating the invasion of privacy. Battles with the government have been proven centuries ago to be counterproductive, so eventually, the people simply allowed the FBI agents to do their thing without protesting. Most of the time, their presence isn't even noticeable since they aren't allowed to engage with their assignment under any circumstances. They're just there, in the shadows, floating like the moon on a late July night silently. 

The only thing that confirms their existence is a microscopic, tiny, little red dot at the far left corner of the devices. 

Mark was too young to fully understand the concept of computer screen agents when they were first reformed. He vaguely remembers overhearing his mother and father arguing about the pros and cons of the concept during their evening tea when the topic was first introduced. At that time, it was simply grown-up talk he had no interest in so he blurred out their words and focused on far more interesting things — such as his brand new dashing toy car. 

Fast forward fifteen years later and he is signing his very first employment contract to the occupation that he knows very well will consume the rest of his life. That's perhaps an exaggeration — it will only consume his life until his boss deemed him stable and trustworthy enough to promote him to become an actually FBI agent — without the computer screen title in front of it. 

‘’You should receive your first assigned case during the course of the day. Our secretaries are still appointing them,’’ his boss, Special Agent Nakamoto, informs while shaking his hand in a farewell. ‘’I advise you to remain on standby.’’

Mark nods attentively and steadies his posture. He returns the handshake with enough force to make him seem confident in his stance, the fact that he is as far from it as one could get notwithstanding. ‘’Yes, sir. I’m very honored to be working under you.’’ 

“You don’t work _under_ me, Agent Lee. You work _with_ me. We are a team now.” Special Agent Nakamoto shoots him a bright grin as he loosens his grip around Mark’s hand. He raises the hand that was just around his to pat his shoulder in a laid back style. ‘’Furthermore, you seem like a very reliable addition to our team. I believe we will do great things together.’’ 

The compliment surely lifts a burdening weight off of Mark’s shoulder, making him relax in the stale looking office. He manages to return the smile, arguably not as wide as Special Agent Nakamoto's but wide enough to give him the impression that his boss is more than satisfied with his unspoken response. 

Just like Nakamoto had notified, Mark’s first assignment arrives a couple of hours later in his inbox while he's having a late lunch at a crappy hamburger bar down the block from the office. All three of his devices buzz with a low ping collectively, indicating newfound activity. Without sparing the barely eaten hamburger a second glance, he gathers his smartphone, laptop, and earphones before rushing through the busy streets of his city to reach the office as fast as possible. Adrenaline and eagerness mixed with curiosity surrounding his first job make his heart thrum boldly inside his chest, leaving him more breathless than he has ever exhibited before. 

**Full name**: Na Jaemin 

**D.O.B**: 130800

**Occupation**: Waiter

**Activity detected**: Unclear 

**Surveillance**: Until further notice 

Mark reads through the report of his new assignment thoroughly. There is hardly any information worth of value on the boy so far. All of his social media accounts are unlocked, tweets and Instagram posts that consist of either selfies or a small insight of his daily life clear for anyone to perceive. His credit card score shows no signs of suspicious transactions, mostly vending machine buys and several low brand clothing shops. As far as Mark can tell, there's nothing out of the ordinary, but clearly, there must be something about him that stirred up a red flag — and Mark is in no position to question the actions of his authorities. 

“You press the_ accept assignment_ button at the end of the message to connect. After that, all your devices will shift into projecting your case’s screens. In the corner of each screen is a window showing the view from their web camera. You can decide which one you want to be on display: their cam or their screen,” the agent sitting next to his cubicle, Jaehyun, explains after Mark had requested help. Mark had only managed to swallow his pride in order to ask for help because his desk partner seems to own the deepest dimples Mark has ever seen, and there is _something_ about them that convinces him that the dude is nice enough not to judge his lack of knowledge. 

“Thank you, man.” Mark smiles and proceeds to follow his instructions carefully. 

Mark doesn't even need to be careful because the second his cursor presses down on the _accept assignment_ button — the whole computer screen turns black for a millisecond before he is greeted by a YouTube video of the Avengers crew discussing their latest movie. On the left corner of the screen is a small window that is still loading up before it slowly lights up to life. He finds himself holding his breath by biting down on his bottom lip. He doesn't even know why he's feeling so apprehensive — he is the goddamn agent and not the criminal, after all. 

The first thing he registers is the fact that the walls of the room he is monitoring are painted in a thousand colors. When the quality increases, Mark can easily interpret that the splash of colors is actually a large painting on the wall. The web camera displays some of it, but something tells him that the painting stretches out further than his sight of vision. The second thing he registers is the main part of his assignment — Na Jaemin. 

Mark hadn’t expected anything, yet he, for some wild reason, finds himself pleasantly surprised at the sight of him. Objectively, Jaemin looks rather normal to the eye. Sure, his hair is colored in a light silver color with blue highlights and Mark thinks he spots a tattoo on his collarbones (he isn’t completely sure) but other than that, he looks like every other young adult in their city. He certainly looks like he could be a waiter, that's for sure.

The clock is just past noon but judging from the way his hair is tousled and the blanket that is wrapped around his body, Mark wants to assume that he has just woken up. His thoughts get confirmed when Jaemin breaks out in a loud yawn that stops midway. The sound makes Mark falter in his seat slightly, not expecting any sound to resonate from the forgotten earphones in his ears. 

“Did I forget to turn my cam off last night?” Jaemin mumbles to himself suddenly as he inches closer to the camera. Mark has to increase his concentration to pick up his words due to the small static because of the stillness in Jaemin's home but with the help of the advanced technology they possess today, he manages to grasp most of it. As Jaemin’s face gets closer to the screen, Mark feels more and more exposed, the fact that he was far away behind a screen abruptly forgotten. 

“Holy fuck, is there an agent watching me?” Jaemin sputters out when his eyes are near enough for Mark to be able to distinguish his iris with ease. He leans backward with a small stumble and stares at the computer for a while in silence. The blanket around his body falls down smoothly on the sheets underneath him, a result of his hurried movements. 

Mark finds himself smiling amusingly at the scene, making all the awkwardness of the invasion of privacy thin away. He clicks on the window that is illuminating Jaemin’s face and expands it, causing the screen to be filled with the view of Jaemin’s webcam exclusive.

“Why is there an agent watching me though?” Jaemin scratches his neck in confusion. This time, Mark can definitely confirm the tattoo on Jaemin’s collar — some sort of flower crawling from his collarbones all the way down to the edge of his shirt. It seems as if the tattoo might continue underneath the shirt as well, but his black shirt covers it profoundly.

From the corner of his eyes, he can spot Jaemin's cursor moving over to close off the forgotten video on the screen. He remains silent though, carefully glancing at the web camera from time to time without making any sort of movements. Mark can tell he is growing restless because he shoots the camera one final frustrated look before the screen suddenly turns pitch black. 

It lightens up merely five seconds later, this time around in a vertical form. The lock screen of Mark’s phone lights up as well, indicating that Jaemin has begun using his phone instead. With a swipe, he connects the screen to his computer instead, where Jaemin once again stares back at him with a frown. His eyebrows are furrowed up above his nose bridge, making several wrinkles appear on his otherwise smooth looking forehead.

“There’s no escape, is there?” Jaemin asks out to the air with a huff. He must have spotted the red dot on his phone screen, as well. He continues on staring at the camera for (Mark counts) ten long drawn out seconds before he shrugs and opens up the Instagram app. “You are clearly here for whatever reason, which is whatever, I don't care. Just don’t bother me and we’ll be cool.” 

—

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully, to say the least. His working hours at the office are from seven am until six pm, after that, he is allowed to work from home — just as long as he keeps an eye out for the assignment. Which is no trouble at all since his assignment has started to feel more like a joke than actual federal employment. 

Speaking of said assignment, Jaemin doesn’t do _anything_. He wakes up around noon every day, spends a couple of hours lurking on social media or viewing shitty Netflix shows before heading to work at six pm, where he is until just over one am. There’s nothing of value, which crawls under Mark’s skin because as much as this is one chill assignment — his dream is to become a badass FBI agent, not an overprotective mom making sure her child doesn't visit porn sites. 

The most criminal thing he has seen so far is Jaemin’s sense of fashion, which resembles a knock-off greaser in the twentieth century, which is, as everybody knows, very outdated and lame as fuck (and not hot at all). Not that Jaemin would care about his thoughts though, seeing that he has completely stopped acknowledging his existence altogether after that first day. Sometimes, Mark would catch his eyes lingering on the camera for a hint of a second, before they would avert away as hastily as they had come. Other than that, it is, for lack of better words, completely radio silent. 

By the fifth day, Mark allows himself to take pee breaks or a walk around the office when his limbs ache for movement. He should be very careful since this job is very serious, but each time he returns back to his desk, it is as if he never left. If Jaemin was on his laptop, he would still be there, if Jaemin had shifted to his phone during his absence, he would also still be there. Nothing criminal at all.

At home, he starts to give less and less of a fuck. Mark lets his working laptop hang around loosely by his coffee table as he lazily scrolls through the endless row of television channels mindlessly. He makes an attempt to stay alert by wearing one of his earphones at least so that he would detect anything that could possibly occur. That’s the least he could do. 

“Do you think the system makes mistakes?” Mark asks Jaehyun after a grunt of frustration threatens to leave his body for the third time this past hour. The first week of his task has officially ended yet here he is, with zero amount of progress. He ruffles his hair harshly when Jaemin presses down on yet another ASMR cooking video. 

“I made a bet with Johnny to see how long you would last before asking that question,” Jaehyun chuckles at him, before peeking his head through the thin divider between their cubicles. His wicked grin only grows when he takes in Mark's defeated state. 

Mark furiously furrows his eyebrows even further and points at his screen, where Jaemin is currently slurping on some noodles while watching the Youtuber chop up some vegetables silently. “This isn’t criminal. How the _fuck_ is a teenager eating noodles a federal crime?” 

This time around, Jaehyun takes the time to walk around the divider in order to properly face Mark. He leans against the small desk by putting his whole weight on his forearms without sparing a single glance at the computer screen beside him. “Do you really think the high ups would assign to you someone in the most wanted list? You are a rookie, Mark. You can’t expect to play in the big league yet. We’ve all been in your seat once, trust me. Whoever you have has probably, I don’t know, sold a bag of weed, stolen a bike or some shit. Just try to nail him as fast as possible in order to move forward, man. Simple as that.” 

Mark attempts to resume back to his work in disappointment when Jaehyun shoots him a hasty wink. “At least he’s cute.”

— 

“Are you still here?” 

It comes eleven days after Mark’s first day. Eleven whole days of staring at a screen, unmovingly. It has reached the point where his eyes have developed a permanent soft pink ring around the whites due to the excessive use of them. At first, he throws it off as Jaemin talking to someone on the phone, or that he has invited a guest over but no — the room is empty and his eyes are set solid on the web camera. 

“I’m here,” Mark whispers to no one really, since Jaemin wouldn’t be able to hear him regardless. He snorts when he realizes that he had just answered a machine, in the middle of his dark living room with no one else around. The things he does for this job and his now oh so annoying dream. 

“Well, I don’t fucking know if you are here or not but I need to vent so if someone is there, you better listen to me.” Jaemin shifts in his seat to sit more comfortably on the bed, leaning his back against the wall filled with colors. He brings the laptop closer to him so that his face is the only thing in view, save for the eye-catching wall behind him. “Alright, I’m gonna start now—” 

The rant consists of Jaemin venting about one of the coworkers he has at his job; a newly employed steward that doesn’t seem to know the difference between vodka and water. He fumes for at least thirty minutes until his breath is staggering between his words and the hair on his forehead is ruffled up due to him running through it exasperatedly. Mark focuses on every word and movement, even finds himself smiling at some of the anecdotes Jaemin shares with him. It’s not his fault, Jaemin has such a way with words that simply draws you in. Furthermore, this is his job, technically he is getting paid to listen to every single thing Jaemin says, after all. 

“Wow, it felt so good to get that out of my system.” Jaemin throws his head back, resulting in a small collision with the wall behind him. A small grimace paints his facial features before he returns his attention back to the device on his lap. “I really hope someone was actually listening, it's quite embarrassing if I was just yelling by myself for almost half an hour.” 

The clock on Mark’s computer reads three o’ five in the morning, and it’s only then he realizes that he hasn’t gotten a single ounce of sleep. A mistake on his part because he has to be in the office in less than three hours, replaying the footage of the night that he should've missed hadn’t he stayed up waiting and listening to Jaemin. Except he didn’t miss it and perhaps he could just sleep in and report his findings later on in the day. It seems like a good idea and technically allowed since he had spent a good part of his non-working hours actually working. 

— 

Ever since the night Mark likes to call “the vent night”, he has come to realize that Jaemin doesn’t seem to have a lot of people to talk to. There are maybe two or three recurring phone numbers that texted or called him regularly, other than that it was mostly silence. Mark quickly learned to recognize the numbers and did a quick background research on them just to be on the safe side. Two of the numbers belong to his same-aged friends that went to the same high school as Jaemin and even lived in the same neighborhood as him currently. They were both university students, unlike Jaemin. Mark didn’t care that closely to find out their majors. The other number belongs to one of Jaemin’s coworkers, an older man with more earrings in one ear than Mark could count. 

So, to say that he feels rather surprised when Jaemin returns home one Saturday night with another man walking right behind him would be an understatement. He isn't one of Jaemin's friends nor his coworker and the way Jaemin moves around him indicates that they are most likely strangers, or merely acquaintances at the very least. Jaemin’s body movements seem stiff, something very out of the ordinary. Usually, when he smiles at some silly video he has playing, his entire body lights up as well. His eyes usually sparkle so brightly that even if Mark is strictly behind a computer screen, he is still able to pick it up. Right now, his beautiful smile is replaced with something that resembles a grimace as he smiles at something the man says. 

“Is something going on?” Mark mumbles to himself. He sits up more squarely in the chair that was originally meant for his dinner table but has as of late taken residence in front of the window facing the park underneath his apartment complex. He turns up the volume to the microphone placed inside Jaemin’s laptop and listens attentively to the discussion occurring. 

“Hm,” the man says, voice deep and rough. He takes a step closer to Jaemin, his back facing the computer screen. “Let’s not dance around each other, shall we?” 

Jaemin smiles, the timidness still prominent. 

Mark has little to no time to prepare for what suddenly happens. One minute, he has his face as close to the monitor as possible, heart quickening in excitement over finally having something to do, the very next minute, he finds himself staring at Jaemin’s face that lies dangerously close to the computer as the man kisses the soul out of him. 

This is what Jaehyun had warned him about during his introduction day. Watching someone get shot at in their own home isn’t awkward, neither is reading through text messages exchanged between drug dealers — no, it’s watching civilians engaged in intimate situations. There are laws against that, mainly to at least preserve that part of the citizens lives private. Unless the sexual exchange had criminal agendas wrapped up in it, the agent is obligated to step away from the monitor until the coast becomes clear. However long that takes. 

But, as far as Mark can tell, all they are doing so far is kissing, and that doesn’t exactly lie under the lines of sexual intercourse, so he stays put, ears heating up with every passing second. It’s muffled and incredibly static, but he can easily pick up some of the soft sounds Jaemin is letting on. His eyes can also pick up the blush that arises on top of his cheekbones and rests delicately on his nose bridge. 

''To hell with laws,'' Mark thinks out loud as he yanks off his earphones the second that the man’s hands start to roam Jaemin’s skin. He even pushes his laptop a bit further away from him on the windowsill and watches how completely flustered he looks in his reflection on the window. A big part inside of him wants to thank the Lord that this happened while he was at home and not at the office. He can only imagine how crooked Jaehyun's smirk would've been like if he ever heard about this reoccurrence. 

— 

The second time the man comes around, Mark almost closes down his computer immediately. He hasn’t been able to forget the sounds Jaemin had made during that time as much as he desperately wanted to. It makes his job so much more challenging, mostly because he shouldn't think this way. There are a thousand protocols and moral obligation he knows he is threading the lines of right now, but in all honesty, who can blame him? He spends a good ninety percent of his day glued to this guy, day in and day out knowing every single little detail about him, so it’s hard not to constantly think about him. 

However — thinking about him and fantasizing about him are two completely different things and Mark knows that. He knows that, yet he can’t seem to be able to tear his gaze away from the monitor screen when the man (Wong Yukhei, very cute and tall gym trainer, Mark has come to find out) pulls Jaemin in for a long, borderline filthy looking kiss. 

For as long as Mark has observed Jaemin, he has never once searched up any pornographic websites or even watched the slightest of a racy movie but the sounds he is currently making seem like they were straight-up pulled out of one of those. If the last time was bad, this time is way worse. Jaemin seems somewhat more comfortable this time, but his shoulders are still stiff as he kisses back, hands loosely placed on Yukhei’s biceps. 

Right as Mark’s hands reach for his earphones in defeat he sees Jaemin abruptly discontinue the kiss. He crooks his head in wonder and turns up the volume again, this time slightly louder since they are still located all the way near the entrance to Jaemin’s home. 

“Yukhei, I'm sorry,” Jaemin heaves, hands dropping from their place on Yukhei. He takes another step back until the small clothing rack from behind him wobbles slightly in its place at the impact. “I don't think this is going to work out.” 

Yukhei steps back as well, creating even more distance between them. His hands that were on Jaemin just seconds ago starts rubbing his neck uncomfortably before a light chuckle amits from his lips. “Hey, don't worry about it. I’m glad we tried, at least.” 

Mark gets taken back when both Jaemin and he exhales loudly. He cringes slightly at their synchronization before resuming back to the deep concentration this job demanded of him. Taking note of Yukhei’s behavior is a must since this situation can easily summon violent behavior. Some people can’t handle rejection well, which is why he cranks up the volume even more and pulls the laptop to his lap instead of the coffee table it was placed on nervously. 

“Are you sure?” Jaemin says, voice showing hesitation. 

Yukhei laughs even louder this time, lacking any negativity behind it. If he was feeling anywhere near uncomfortable, it doesn't show one bit. Mark can't tell if he is that good of an actor or if he's genuinely a great guy. “Of course. Why would I not be? Besides, even if this did work out, me going back to Hong Kong would stand in our way anyhow. ” 

Jaemin slowly nods, and finally, a small, genuine smile appears on his lips. He wraps his arms around Yukhei’s broader body in a loose hug, the first one he actually seems like he's content with. “If it makes you feel any better, you are a pretty damn good kisser.” 

There's a beat of silence that stretches out in the room before both Yukhei and Jaemin erupt in loud laughter. The tense atmosphere dissolves almost at an immediate, leaving the room with the familiar and warm environment Mark has grown accustomed to. Deciding that any potential threat is out of the window, Mark leans back against his couch with a small exhale and relaxes his limbs. He stays there with eyes barely focusing on the screen until Jaemin's voice suddenly fills his earphones, this time much louder. 

''Was that pathetic?'' he asks, eyes boring right into Mark's. 

Mark doesn't feel as surprised when this happens the second time. He simply returns back the eye contact with Jaemin through the computer screen noiselessly, lips twitching in an urge to respond. He doesn't suppress the snort that leaves his nostrils when he thinks about how much this resembles the kids show Dora The Explorer, the way she would ask a question and sit there silently waiting for a response she knows she's never going to get back. 

''Yukhei is Renjun's cousin, and Renjun in my best friend. He tried to set us up for months now, and I finally caved,'' Jaemin states, flopping down on the messily made bed while his feet dangle in the air. His eyes are still on the web camera though, lazily staring into a microscopic red dot. ''He's so hot, isn't he?'' he sighs, loud enough to make Mark want to crank down the volume once more. ''You might've heard that he's going back to Hong Kong in just a few weeks. I don't think it's reasonable to fully invest in something that isn't going to work out, right? I'm too poor to travel from Seoul all the way to Hong Kong just for a man.'' 

That takes Mark off guard, hard. He remembers looking over the case file extremely thoroughly but not once does he remember learning about where Jaemin is taking residence. It must've slipped his mind completely because he is rather positive that he would've remembered knowing that Jaemin lives in the same city as he does. The idea leaves Mark feeling slightly ansty as if Jaemin would ever find out who he is, but also... excited that he is this close and not someone solely stuck on his screen. 

''Dude, if anyone is actually here, please give me a sign. It makes me feel pitiful to just...'' Jaemin lets out a cry in frustration, ''talk out loud.'' 

And Mark — stupid, idiotically stupid Mark — finds his finger reaching toward Jaemin's monitor without an ounce of self-control. He presses down on the_ gain access_ button, searches for some random video on YouTube and clicks the play button. 

''What the fuck?'' Jaemin shrieks when his speakers suddenly erupt in noise. He scrambles in the bed, resulting in several pillows and blankets falling on the floor before he grabs a proper hold of the computer. He gawks at the screen in disbelief as the song reaches its chorus, some Kpop girl group loudly singing about how much she fancies a boy. ''I didn't think you'd actually be real,'' he continues on, eyes inflated up in wonder. 

It's easy to forget the stupid, horrendous mistake Mark has made when he's too busy grinning at Jaemin's reaction. Somewhere deep inside his chest, hidden beneath his urge to excel in everything he does, lies an ugly part that feels rather happy about his course of action only because Jaemin doesn't actually seem scared, in fact, he seems rather awed at the situation unfolding. The song starts to fade out into a bridge consisting of a long-drawn high note that surely distracts the attention from the elephant in the room. 

''So, the FBI agent thing is real?'' Jaemin pauses the song and takes a second to observe if the cursor is going to move again. It doesn't. 

''Pretty much,'' Mark shrugs, remembers that Jaemin can't see him and proceeds to click his tongue. Except, there is a chance that he can actually tell Jaemin now because the damage is already done. Jaemin already knows that someone exists in his screen, so might as well make use of it. His fingers twitch above his keyboard before he writes out a small _ Yes, it is _on the YouTube search bar. It takes Jaemin a moment to see it, but when he does, his face turns even more surprised, if that is even possible. 

''I don't get why an agent is watching me though..?'' Jaemin trails off, and it reminds Mark of the first thing Jaemin had said when the assignment first started off. ''As far as I can tell, I don't do anything unlawful?'' 

_ I don't know either_, Mark writes down. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, anxiety slowly building up inside of him as his actions slowly settle down inside of him. He's broken the main, most important rule in this goddamn job; never, under any circumstances make yourself known to the assignment no matter what arises. Even if they are getting into a tricky situation, hell even if they are on the ground begging for help — never make yourself known. Jaemin was nowhere near such gruesome moments, all he is is a curious being and Mark had given in that easily. 

Mark can almost imagine the way his boss' icy cold eyes are gonna look like when he fires him for breaking protocol. 

—

Except for the fact that Mark doesn't get fired. Jaemin hasn't exposed him at all, in fact, he seeks out Mark's presence more often than not. When he returns back from work, he rushes to his computer despite the fact that his eyes are barely open due exhaustion. He asks Mark mundane questions about his day, about his hobbies and other things — but never crossing the lines of becoming too personal. Mark usually answers his questions short and easy, careful not to give away too much of himself. But, Jaemin isn't the only one that is inquisitive. Mark questions Jaemin too on things he's found himself wondering about. Taking in the fact that Mark is connected with him for twenty-four hours, there isn't a lot that he doesn't know about him but that doesn't mean that his interest doesn't extend their digital connection. 

Talking to Jaemin makes Mark's job so much more bearable which makes him wonder just how he managed to survive the first month without any sort of contact. Even if Jaemin's life continues on in the same fashion as it had before they started talking to each other, communicating to him arose Mark's engagement and his feelings of giving a fuck about this arguably boring job. 

They keep their communication strictly in a Word document Jaemin has labeled as _ The Guy Watching Me _with a green heart emoji. Sometimes, Jaemin asks Mark to play a movie for them to watch together, and since Mark's older brother is an aspiring movie director, he has a bunch of those under his arms. They do it multiple times a week over the course of two months with Jaemin wrapped up in one of his fuzzy blankets and plushies by his side, and Mark on his own bed staring more at Jaemin than the movies that flash on the tiny screen he has minimized at the corner of the screen. It's a hobby, almost. 

It feels oddly intimate, the thing they are doing. Being this busy with work doesn't allow Mark much closeness with other people, let alone his friends, so it's nice to feel the friendship Jaemin offers him. Well, friendship feels like a loose term. Friends know each other's name and friends most definitely doesn't get paid to follow each other's every movement. 

''Today, I get to pick the movie,'' Jaemin states, pulling Mark out of his deep thoughts. He claps his hands together, rubs them wickedly and puts on a movie that screams cheesiness merely from the title alone.

Mark groans out loud and writes down a harsh _ NO, please not while I'm at the office. _ Jaemin, annoyingly hot Jaemin, seems to be pleased with the reactions he's receiving, grin growing wider and wider as his eyes scan through Mark's written words. And well, Mark continues on whining in the Word document to deaf ears throughout the largest part of the movie until there's a hand tapping his shoulder, making him blunder with closing down the monitor. He feels as if an ice bucket trickles down his spine as he turns around and gets greeted by Jaehyun, that has an eyebrow that's risen in question. ''What are you doing? 

Mark answers too abruptly, ''Nothing.'' When Jaehyun examines his face, without a hint of trust within him, Mark deflates. ''Please don't tell.''

Unbeknown to Mark, Jaehyun throws his head back in a low pitched laugh that reaches several cubicles down the line of the office. There are some hushing and shushing emitting here and there, but he doesn't seem to mind as his eyes twinkle in delight. ''Oh, how typical. We all fall for the same trap, don't we?'' 

''What's that supposed to mean?'' Mark questions. He can hear Jaemin's voice from his earphones asking if he is still there or not, but Mark was too busy trying to unravel Jaehyun's point to properly respond to him. 

''We spend all day watching these humans, right? We learn everything about them — their favorite movies, food, colors. We experience their moments of happiness and sadness with them, without their knowledge. It's difficult not to get attached,'' Jaehyun says, suddenly turning serious. ''It's creepy and borderline stalkerish, but it's the truth.''

The growing anxiety bubble inside Mark's chest only grows. He has twisted and turned every possible outcome of this situation, but nothing seems like a valuable solution. ''What should I do?''

''Don't do anything,'' Jaehyun truthfully says, face not showing one ounce of mercy. ''I won't snitch on you for talking to him because I myself have been there before myself, but please,'' his voice drops one octave, ''don't give who you are away. At least not while you are on this case.''

Before Mark could settle on an answer, Jaemin jumps out of bed, opens up his phone and stares at it dumbly. The front screen and the view from his front camera transmit less than a second later onto the monitor, giving Mark a clear view of Jaemin's troubled expression. Once again, Jaemin asks if he is still there and Mark can't help but give Jaehyun a pleading look, in which he snorts at before returning back to his cubicle wordlessly. 

_I'm here_, Mark writes too quickly for his own liking. He turns down the screen brightness, leaving it somewhat dimmed down just in case someone else besides Jaehyun walks by. _Had to take care of something. _

''Where did you go?'' Jaemin says, a pout decorating his lips. The screen shifts back from his phone to his computer screen, giving Mark once again a clear view of his chaotic room. Mark used to constantly ask him to clean it up, but Jaemin had simply shrugged with a nonchalant smirk and said that it added 'personality' to the room, whatever that meant. 

_My coworker wanted to talk, _Mark answers, chewing on his top lip. The movie is long forgotten at the side of the screen as the Word document overtakes most of the screen. He has even taken it upon himself to minimalize the tab showing Jaemin's web camera simply because of feeling turbulent. 

''Oh,'' Jaemin simply answers, cursor hovering over the play button for the movie. ''Can I ask you something a bit personal?'' 

That sentence alone makes the engulfing pit in Mark's stomach return at full force, and as much as he wants to answer a cold-hearted no, he finds his fingers writing out a short _Yes. _Jaehyun's earlier words lie thick inside his brain, but he pushes them aside as the devil sitting on his shoulder demands him to give in into his curiosity. Seconds pass by in silence and for every heartbeat that passes, Mark finds himself growing more and more worried.

''You told me once you were around my age, right? What do you do other than... watch me?'' Jaemin says, the words sounding very thought throughout. ''I'd hate to imagine that your whole life just surrounds me,'' he finishes off with a dull sounding laugh. His fingers fidget with the collar of his shirt, barely grazing against his tattoo. 

Mark has never felt as pathetic as he feels when he writes down _Nothing much, to be honest. I work, sleep and get one day off every two weeks until I'll get assigned an actual case and not surveillance. _Watching Jaemin's expression fall is perhaps the worst outcome of this whole conversation, and not the situation surrounding it. He rushes to write _Don't worry though. Watching you isn't all that bad, I've heard there's way worse. _It doesn't help a whole bunch, but Jaemin's lips twitch in a smile, so Mark can't help but call it a victory. 

Jaemin hums, obviously interested. ''Oh, yeah? Like what?'' 

_My coworker got stuck with an older man that lived in his mother's basement and masturbated for a good part of the day for three months. Imagine watching that day in and day out, _Mark writes while suppressing a grin. He remembers the disgust on Jungwoo's face when he shared the story over lunch the first week of Mark's employment, back when he regretted ever signing up for this job. Now, that regret is almost non-existent, especially after hearing about Jungwoo's struggle. Also, particularly after Jae- nevermind he can't go there. 

''Oh my god, I'm an angel,'' Jaemin laughs, the wrinkles on his forehead mellowing out. His demeanor shifts very suddenly, and if Mark focuses enough, he would probably be able to spot a lightbulb on top of his head. ''I'm sorry you had to see what happened between me and Yukhei by the way, unless,'' his fingers travel down to his lap with a mischievous smile on his lips, ''you liked that?'' 

It's at this moment right here that Mark mourns every single moment of his life that has led up to this one. He scrabbles in his seat, proceeds to bump his knee onto the underside of the table before finally grabbing a proper hold of the laptop. There's no one around him, yet he can't help but dim down the screen even more until he's faced with nothing else but his own dense reflection. _I wasntf eben watchign i promise _he types away, not caring about the unprofessional typos he has gathered along the way.

Jaemin breaks out in the loudest, deepest laugh Mark has ever heard come out of his body. He hurriedly turns up the screen brightness and feels his heart burst at the sight of Jaemin's crescent, twinkling eyes staring right into the web camera as he beams. ''That took you off guard, didn't it?''

''Fuck you,'' Mark mumbles, runs a hand through his hair and tries to fight off the blush that has settled on his face. 

—

Just like Mark had told Jaemin, his life doesn't consist of a whole lot. Four months into this assignment and he has more or less a strict, solid set routine that he lives by. It works rather great — it's nowhere as stress-inducing as it was on his earlier day where he used to overthink everything such as writing down reports, when he should sleep and so on and so forth. It all comes so easy right now, too easy. Which is why Mark feels as if his world stops spinning when his boss calls him over to his office on Monday afternoon, without having a single clue of what he could've possibly done. 

The first thing that pops to mind is that someone must've seen him talking to Jaemin, and this was his last moments in the office. He takes one last look at his desk, even dares to look at Jaehyun with a grim look before he turns around and walks into the potential downfall of his life. What is he supposed to do now? Being an agent is the only thing he has ever strived for. The only thing that he has put this much effort, sweat, and tears into. 

''Hello, Agent Lee,'' Special Agent Nakamoto greets him after the kind secretary allows him to step into the office. ''Please have a seat.'' 

''Good evening, sir,'' Mark bows before taking a seat on the leather chairs in front of the cluttered desk. The desk acts not only as a physical divider but also as a psychological reminder of how different they are in terms of authority. ''What can I assist you with?'' 

Special Agent Nakamoto grins, pleased. ''I'm glad you are asking, Agent Lee. You see, you have been working on this task for four months uninterruptedly without any hiccups nor reports worthwhile, am I correct?'' When Mark nods in agreement, he continues. ''You've proven yourself more than capable of handling both the stress and the constant surveillance of this job. I want to imagine that you have gotten familiar with how we run things here which is why I'm closing down this assignment. Your talents are being wasted on nothing that isn't even worth the effort if we are being honest.'' 

The happiness and pride that Mark feels inside his chest are indescribable. He could honest to god cry if he tried really hard. But, before he allows himself to swoon over the moon, he coughs and straightens up in his seat. ''Sir, I'm sorry to ask but are you sure?'' 

Once again, Mark finds himself get approached with a chuckle. ''Yes, I am sure. There's this whole gang I need the entire department to focus on, you included.'' 

It doesn't hit Mark what changing assignments actually indicates until he returns back to his desk, with his computer showing the FBI logo desktop instead of the familiar caricature one he's used to seeing. The panic doesn't settle down though until he tries to tell Jaemin the good news, without being able to do so. He clicks around on the desktop in order to bring up their Word document but the mission fails miserably.

Sorrow crashes onto him so hard that it completely wipes away every ounce of optimism he has felt for the past thirty minutes of his life. He won't be able to tell Jaemin because he isn't his agent anymore. There isn't even a chance for him to wish him farewell now that their connection is discontinued. Somehow, what makes him feel even worse is the fact that Jaemin has begged him to watch a Studio Ghibli movie for weeks and today was the day that Mark was finally going to agree, even if he doesn't like animated movies that much. Now, they won't even be able to do that. Hell, Jaemin won't even know what happened to him. 

Mark finds himself staring at the screen in aghast when two hands land on his shoulders, softly. He doesn't bother to turn around since the touch feels rather common now. ''I'm sorry, Mark.'' 

''It's whatever,'' the words feel thick on his tongue. He still manages to shoot Jaehyun a smile that reflects on his computer screen faintly. ''He was only an assignment.''

''Yeah,'' Jaehyun says, but shakes his head. ''I know you don't mean that, though. But it does get better eventually, I promise.'' 

Mark finds that hard to believe, as childish as he is, but he nods nonetheless in order to not burden his friend. He opens his mail to distract himself, and just like he thought, he finds the new assignment lying there, waiting for him. There isn't one single moment of hesitation in his movements as he presses down _accept assignment _for the second time in his life. 

—

The new assignment went by smoother than what Mark had assumed. The assignment, as it turned out, was divided between seven different people in their department. It consisted of patrolling a group of freshly released ex-con's just to ensure that they would not return back to their unlawful behavior. In Mark's case, the ex-con he received ended up returning back to selling strong drugs nearly three weeks after his release. Most of the others did indeed repeat their crimes as well, just like the bureau had assumed. It converted into a successful assignment and to say that it didn't make Mark fall in love with his line of work even deeper would be a damn lie. The ''training'' he received with Jaemin did surely help, but it was far from qualifying for how bad it can actually get and there is no doubt that it can get even worse.

Speaking of Jaemin, there are days where he finds himself missing him. Most days if he's being honest. A big part in him wants to break in into the encrypted documents of the case just to find his information, perhaps his phone number or even his Facebook account — but, after working on the ex-con assignment, Mark has come to realize just how severe this job can get. He can't put himself in danger and potential trouble with the higher-ups just because of some silly crush. 

Just like Jaehyun had stated, it did eventually get easier. Sure, he found himself hating watching movies to the point that he stopped watching them all together and he can't even stand looking at fuzzy blankets without frowning, but it got easier. Much easier. So, when Jaehyun asks him out for a team dinner after their assignment officially closes down, Mark finds himself agreeing immediately after craving a bit of fun that didn't involve watching Youtube videos with a guy that didn't even know his name. 

''Isn't this a bit too expensive for our paychecks?'' Mark whispers in Jaehyun's ear as they step into one of the fanciest restaurants three blocks away from their office. He's heard of it, but he has never once even thought about stepping a foot inside of it. One meal here could supply him with three weeks of amazing, slightly soggy noodles to eat at home, thank you very much. 

''Shut up, Mark,'' Jaehyun shushes. ''We earned this. Besides, Yuta said it's on him.'' 

The idea of free fancy food is enough to make Mark shut up. He follows the trail of his seniors until they take their seat in a large, round table in the middle of the restaurant. The vicinity isn't completely vacant, but it's empty enough to provide them some privacy, which is rather appreciated since the group has decided to take a liking in discussing cases right there and then, as if the entire reason they went out on this dinner wasn't because they wanted to get away from work. 

Mark mostly focuses on the impressive menu. Granted he doesn't know what half of these French (or maybe Spanish) words mean, but he tries his best to find something tasty to settle upon. His eyes land on something with chicken, and if Mark knows something, it's that you can never go wrong with chicken. So, he takes note of the number the dish has and waits until the rest of the group has decided on what they want to order. 

''Welcome to _Dreaming_, may I take your orders?'' the waiter cheerfully says, and the voice sounds oddly familiar. 

Scratch that, it _is _familiar. 

''Oh my goodness,'' Jaehyun actually gasps out, eyes comically wide. 

Mark lifts his head up and gets greeted with the same eyes he spent four whole months looking into through the help of a web camera. He feels... he feels something physically turn inside of him. 

''Uhm,'' the waiter — Jaemin — murmurs with a confused voice. His eyes travel around the table before they land once again on Mark's. ''Is there an issue?'' 

''No,'' Mark instantly responds, turns around to the rest of the table and motions them to place their orders. The exchange leaves a whiff of awkwardness in the air, but nobody decides to acknowledge as they all share their orders with Jaemin. It takes Mark four tries before he manages to say the number twenty-two correctly, and for some reason, Jaemin smiles at him even though he's acting like a pure dumbass. 

It takes one, two and three seconds for Jaemin to move away from their table before Jaehyun kicks Mark in the shin under the table. ''Unless I'm fucking blind, that was,'' Jaehyun leans forward to make sure nobody nearby is able to hear him, ''Na Jaemin?'' 

Mark shakes his head in disbelief. ''Jaemin has silver hair and blue highlights. This waiter has blond hair, there's no way.'' 

''Hair dye exists, you colossal idiot,'' Jaehyun bites out under his breath. ''Go after him, _now_.'' 

Mark isn't sure how he ends up at the backside of the restaurant in the hallway leading up to the kitchen but somehow, he's there, leaning against the wall patiently waiting for his waiter to pop up again. He hasn't even thought about what he wants to say or how he's going to go on about it — all he knows is that he has to say something. Nervousness starts to possess his body as he stands there as if he isn't a goddamn agent. Nervousness isn't an emotion he should feel so often, but this one boy is enough to make him want to crumble up inside himself constantly. He's dangerous, that's the conclusion Mark comes to as the door to the kitchen opens up. 

''Oh, it's you,'' Jaemin surprisedly says and Mark almost cries out. ''Can I help you with something?''

''_Jaemin_?'' Mark whispers, just to try it out. He still can't process the fact that the boy he likes is real, actually real and right in front of him in arms reach. Mark can run his hands through his beautiful hair if he wants to, or even brush his fingers against his tattoo (that would be a bit awkward since they are strangers, but this is a love story, after all). Speaking of, Mark is too scared to see if it's truly there or not, so he settles upon staring right into Jaemin's eyes. 

Jaemin takes a step back and scowls. The expression doesn't suit him one bit. ''Do I know you?'' 

''My name is Mark,'' Mark says as if will have any meaning to Jaemin whatsoever. It clearly doesn't when Jaemin glares even harder. ''I was uh— you FBI agent.'' 

A couple of things happen at the same time. First, Jaemin's expression shifts from even more confusion into disbelief. Then, there are two strong arms that are wrapped all over his body tightly, pulling him incredibly close. ''Are you kidding me?'' 

Mark shakes his head the best that he can against Jaemin's shoulder, but it rather restricted so he settles upon talking instead. ''No, I'm not.''

After what seems to be hours, Jaemin finally loosens his grip on him and pulls him forward until they are face to face once again, with his hands still on his biceps. Even though Mark is wearing both a dress shirt and a suit jacket, the touch still leans the area feeling warm. ''God, what the hell? I thought you fucking died or got fired or something. Do you know how long I waited for you to return?'' 

Those words are more than enough to make Mark lean into the touch just slightly, but also lean into the fact that whatever he is feeling is perhaps not onesided at all. He feels a shy smile stretch on his lips and doesn't bother to suppress it. ''I'm sorry. I got taken off your case for another one. You are way too lawful for the FBI.''

''Why are you smiling?'' Jaemin punches his chest once, without any force. It's rather hypocritical of him to mention Mark's smile when he is prompting one of his own, but Mark doesn't mention it. ''I can't believe you are real and so pretty as well. At first, I thought you'd be an old, creepy dude but then, you told me your age and I was like_ hm, a man in a suit is sexy_, but I didn't know you'd be this hot,'' Jaemin continues on rambling until Mark places both his thumb and index finger on chin and pulls him for a kiss to silence him. 

Jaemin giggles into the kiss as he wraps both his arms around his waist in order to pull their bodies closer. The kiss is somewhat restricted due to the fact that they are both grinning into it, but that hardly matters if you ask him. It's everything he could've imagined and so much more. ''Why are you smiling?'' Jaemin whines again, this time against his lips. 

''Nothing,'' Mark answers back and steals a couple of kisses because he simply can. ''I'm just happy I get to see your smile in real life and not through a computer screen.'' 

''Oh, shut up,'' Jaemin drops his smile, closes his eyes and reconnects their lips in a much more passionate kiss, ignoring the fact that they are literally standing in the middle of a restaurant hallway. Between the clutter of the plates, the kitchen staff yelling out orders, and the toned-down conversations from the restaurant visitors, Mark is still able to pick up the noises of delight that Jaemin pushes onto their kiss as Mark angles his head to the side in order to provide their lips a better fit. 

''You should get back to work,'' Mark breaks the kiss apart as much as it pains him only because he can feel Jaehyun stirring in his seat. 

The pout on Jaemin's lips returns, except that this time, Mark falls for it. ''But, we just found each other. I just found out your name.'' 

''Can I come over after your shift?'' Mark asks hesitantly. He doesn't doubt that if Jaemin focuses for even half a second, he'd be able to pick up the way his heart is pounding inside his chest. The idea of stepping inside Jaemin's private bubble, the bubble he's only been a simple observer of feels so out of reach, but so did Jaemin just minutes ago, so really, who's to tell? 

''Oh,'' the pout on Jaemin's lips gets replaced with a smirk, one Mark has only seen through a computer screen. ''Way to be forward, Mark. I'll make sure to tape over my web camera when I get home then.''

Even though Mark knows that Jaemin has been cleared off a long time ago, he still nods just because of the fact that he _knows _first hand that this job can make you pop up in all the most random places. Besides, he'd hate it if one of his coworkers ever found him there, kissing the life out of an assignment. That'd be awkward, right? 

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to lil for giving me the motivation to actually post this, i love you. 
> 
> so, folks, what do we think? please let me know ♡.♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/hyuckyan) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyuckyang)


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